(omnipotence, various physical transformations, mind control, cruelty)
I held my briefcase tightly as the bus rolled along under me. I kept my eye out for my stop while rehearsing answers in my head. If they ask me what my greatest weakness is… I don’t know, that question always feels like a trap. I thought about anecdotes and experiences I’d had that demonstrated my creativity, my dedication and my ability to co-operate. I was nervous, but I felt pretty ready.
The bus stopped and two young women got on. I was focusing pretty hard on where I was going, and probably wouldn’t have noticed them but for the fact that they were loud. And obnoxious. They were laughing at something so hard that they were practically screaming, and I was pretty sure that neither of them actually paid to get on. One of them snapped her fingers rudely at the driver as she walked past, but he didn’t do anything. He didn’t react at all. Most bus drivers I’ve seen wouldn’t tolerate that for a second, I thought, but this one acted as though he didn’t see these two at all.
“Oh my god didja see his face!” one shouted between gasps for air. She young, not over twenty, white, with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She had small but perky breasts, and was wearing a pink tube top and a black miniskirt.
“He was… he was just all…” replied the other one. She opened her mouth and eyes wide in a mocking imitation of shock and held it for a moment before erupting in laughter again. This one was East Asian, with a spiky shock of neon green hair. A black tank top with a skull and crossbones and an anarchy pin covered her large, heavy-looking breasts, and a pair of ripped jean shorts was wrapped snugly around her wide hips. She slowly, eventually caught her breath and leaned back in her seat with a silly grin on her face.
I looked at them with distaste. Pity, I thought, They could be good-looking if they didn’t dress so ridiculously. Nothing turned me off faster than posturing teenagers. Didn’t matter if they were dressed for the club or for a mosh pit. Especially when they were as obnoxious as these two.
The two of them said nothing for a minute, giggling occasionally.
“What d’ya think it’s gonna look like when he has to take a piss?” the blonde asked, which caused them both to immediately cackle joyfully once again.
A middle-aged woman sitting across the aisle was glaring at them. The green-haired girl shot her a look back. “The fuck are you staring at?” she shouted.
The woman replied angrily, “I’ve had a bad morning and I have a headache. Would you please keep it down?”
The blonde snorted and looked at her friend. “Hey. Amy. She thinks we’re too loud.”
“Oh, are we too loud for you? Here.” The Asian girl extended her arm and brought her hand up suddenly, slicing the air in front of her with the side of her hand, then down again in a chopping motion, just a bit to the side.
The woman glared at her, then her eyes opened wide. She looked around herself in awe and fear, and clasped her hands to the side of her head. “What have you…” she began, but didn’t finish her question. She started to shout wordlessly and frantically clawed at her head. When she pushed her hair back I could see that she had no ears; the sides of her head were covered in smooth skin.
“There. Peace and quiet for you,” Amy smirked.
The blonde stuck her tongue out and raised her middle finger at the woman. “Hah. You understand that, don’cha.”
The woman gaped in response. She looked around her in horror, then started to wail.
“Oh god, shut up,” sighed Amy, rolling her eyes. She drew her fingers across her lips in a zipping motion and the woman instantly became silent.
At this, a man sitting two seats over from me stood up and walked towards the girls, in a moment of what was either incredible bravery or intense stupidity. He was tall, broad and muscular, intimidatingly so, and carried himself like someone who’d been through the military. He walked confidently toward them and placed himself directly between the girls and the woman. The blonde seemed slightly nervous, her eyes darting back and forth between the man and her friend, but Amy seemed totally unconcerned. She leaned back in her seat and looked up at him with mild curiosity. “You’re getting off this bus,” he said, and rang the bell. I almost believed him.
The girl made an exaggerated sad face. “Oh, no, mister hero man. Please don’t make me get off the bus.” She seemed to enjoy uttering the words make me, as though the very idea were absurd.
The bus started to slow as it came to the corner and the man grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet. She didn’t resist. The top of her head came up only to his shoulder, and he outweighed her by over a hundred pounds, but she casually, delicately, traced the contours of his pectoral muscles with her finger. “What a big, strong man you are,” she told him, sarcastically. “I bet you’re used to people doing what you tell them, aren’t you? But…” she gently placed the palm of her hand directly on the centre of his chest. “I bet if you weren’t quite as big and strong as you are…”
She made a small O with her lips and began to suck in air, noisily. The man’s eyes shot open and he grabbed at her hand, but it was as though her arm were made of stone; he couldn’t budge it. Her palm seemed stuck firmly to his chest, as though it were pulling on him with incredible force. As she inhaled, I, along with all of the other passengers on the bus, watched as he began to slowly wither and shrink, while she became taller and broader. His muscles softened and he actually became shorter, while her body became firmer and more solid.
The blonde, watching the show with fascination, pulled up her miniskirt and put her hand into her underwear, rubbing her clitoris and moaning.
By the time Amy’s lungs were full, the man was several inches shorter than he had been, and she was several inches taller; he was still bigger than she was, but not by much. The moment she stopped inhaling, the pressure seal on his chest broke and he stumbled, almost losing his footing. He breathed deeply, looking at her in fear.
She patted her body admiringly, feeling her new muscles. “Not bad,” she said. The man turned and started to run, but, not even looking at him, she casually twirled her finger in the air and he tripped on something invisible, crashing down to the floor of the bus. She flipped her hand from palm-down to palm-up, and he was lifted off the ground and flipped onto his back.
“No! Please!” He shouted, but she just grinned at him.
“Nuh-uh. I’m not done with you yet.” She knelt down, placed her hand back on his chest and started to suck air into her mouth once again. He again tried to dislodge her hand, but was totally impotent in his efforts. His skin seemed to sink inwards, and he became smaller, skinnier, weaker, while she, crouched over him, became taller, stronger, bulkier, as she sucked his mass into herself. She pulled her arm back, and he was lifted up off the ground by the suction created by her hand. She left him hanging as she continued to drain him.
A man near the front of the bus started to scream, and the blonde shouted at the top of her lungs, “Shut the fuck up or she’ll do you next!”
The man managed to stop screaming, but he got out of his seat and scrambled for the door.
“Hey! Driver! Get moving!” the blonde shouted at him. Obediently, cheerfully, the driver closed the door, trapping the desperate passenger inside, and pulled into traffic. She continued masturbating.
Amy, still focused on the absorption of the man who’d dared to try to tell her what to do, stopped inhaling, and the man fell to the ground on his back. Immediately, she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him to his feet. He was dizzy, and the legs of his pants extended past his feet. He stumbled, but managed to grab onto a pole to keep himself from falling. He had lost over a foot in height, and dozens of pounds of muscle, and looked like a completely different person; the green-haired girl, meanwhile, could have been an Olympic athlete. She was over six feet tall, with huge sculpted muscles on her arms and her legs. Oddly enough, unlike him, her clothes seemed to have grown with her; they fit her perfectly.
She looked down at the man and touched a finger to his chest and sucked, as though she were drinking him through a straw. He continued to wither and she continued to expand, his change happening more and more quickly and hers happening more and more slowly, as he had less and less to give her. Finally, she pulled her finger back and he collapsed to the floor, an emaciated husk of a man. He scrambled backward on all fours until he was at the back of the bus and couldn’t get any further away from her.
The bus continued to roll along.
Her friend, the blonde, suddenly shouted in pleasure as she brought herself to orgasm. Amy turned back to her, smirking. “You liked that, didja?”
“Oh, fuck, Amy.” She said between deep breaths. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.”
“I am, ain’t I?”
“Oh hell yeah!” the blonde replied enthusiastically. “Everyone on this bus who don’t think so is a fuckin’ tool.”
“Hmm…” Amy thought for a moment and raised her arms slowly, majestically, elegantly. She was hot. She didn’t look any different than the way she had just a moment before, and I couldn’t put my finger on it, on why I hadn’t thought so until now, but she was unbelievably sexy. Her clothes, her hair, her body, her voice, all of it radiated sexuality. My dick sprang to life so quickly that I became lightheaded for a moment.
I looked around me and saw that everyone else on the bus was staring at her now not in fear, but in pure lust. A woman to my left started to rub her nipple as she stared, and a man to my right put his hands down into his pants. I followed suit, unable to restrain myself; in the presence of someone so powerfully sexual, there was nothing to do but masturbate. I unzipped my fly and pulled my dick out and began to pump.
Within a moment, everyone on the bus was masturbating except for Amy, her blonde friend, and the driver. Even the man who’d been emaciated and the woman who’d been deafened. I glanced around, but was unable to look away from her for too long – she was sexual perfection, and drew my eyes like a magnet.
“You know what? I kinda like him. Can I have him?” I heard. I looked up and saw that the blonde had stood up and was now looking directly at me. I froze.
Amy looked from me to her. “Yeah, he’s kinda cute. I bed he’d be fun for all sorts’a stuff.” She thought for a moment. “Tell you what, I’m gonna play with him for a while. You can have him after.”
I wanted her to play with me. I didn’t know what that was actually going to entail, but I wanted it desperately.
“Aw come on!” the blonde protested. “Let me have this one.”
Amy raised an eyebrow. (My god, those eyebrows… I thought). “No.” she said, sneering.
“Why not? You get to do whatever you wanna do. And you’re so cool, and your powers are so hot… just… let me have him.”
The man to my right moaned and came, his jizz splattering on the floor.
“When did you get so fucking whiny?” Amy asked her. I continued to pump my fist over my cock – even the way Amy was talking down to the blonde was arousing.
“I’m not whining!” she stomped her foot on the floor. “I just wanna have him, come on!”
Amy rolled her eyes at her. “God, you’re getting boring.”
The blonde stared at her for a moment, then sat back down on the seat, her arms crossed, pouting. Amy stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. She cracked her knuckles. “If I knew you were gonna be like that…”
A woman near the front of the bus shouted in pleasure as she, too, brought herself to orgasm, followed by a man near the back. Moans and gasps were audible from almost every passenger.
Amy placed her hands before her and pinched the air, as though she were holding a large sheet of paper, and held that position for a moment, thinking.
“H-hey – what are you…”
The blonde never finished her question, as Amy began to fold and manipulate the invisible paper in front of her. On the seat, the blonde began to shrink and crumple in jerky spasms, seeming to fold into and onto herself, being bent on angles that seemed to lead outside of space.
In about ten seconds there was what appeared to be an origami doll, 18 inches tall, that vaguely resembled the blonde that had been sitting there a moment prior. The doll looked at its hands, then back up it Amy, its face a patch of bare skin. Clothes, skin and hair were tucked into each other.
Amy looked down at her work, then over at me. “Hey. You.” She said.
I came. Gobs of semen erupted out of me and covered my hand.
She laughed. “Eat that.”
I immediately started licking my hand clean. I wasn’t even sure whether she’d compelled me to or not. I just did it.
She flashed a brilliant smile at me. “My best friend turned out to be a whiny bitch, so you’re going to be my best friend now.”
“I… I… uh…”
She rang the bell and the bus started to slow. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Shaking, I stood up. I tripped over something as I stepped out into the aisle; I looked down and saw a briefcase lying on the floor. My briefcase. That was mine. But what had I wanted it for? It just seemed so utterly unimportant, and I had no idea why I had brought it with me.
The doors opened and Amy stepped out.
I stepped over the briefcase and followed my new best friend.